


Two Things Only

by westernredcedar



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Jack is seriously lonely and uncertain and horny, Jack pov, Lots o' self-love, M/M, because no one is in the same city as anyone else, lots of Twitter and Skype and texting, poor communication choices, post-kiss/pre-Madison
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-13
Updated: 2017-03-19
Packaged: 2018-10-03 07:38:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 11,268
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10239206
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/westernredcedar/pseuds/westernredcedar
Summary: Bitty sighs. “So now everyone in the Haus thinks I’ve started a long-distance relationship with someone from California named Colton who I met through Twitter…”“Colton?”“I know, Jack. I was panicking!”Jack has to bite his lip to keep from laughing. “Okay. Colton.”Or, the one in which Mashkov says the line, “Soon you get head here, too,” and it’s not a sex joke. Enjoy.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [PorcupineGirl](https://archiveofourown.org/users/PorcupineGirl/gifts).



> This is a gift for the amazing PorcupineGirl, who not only won my FandomTrumpsHate auction, but also was one of the organizers of the entire auction overall, and deserves all of the fics!  
> This is based on two of her prompts. First, she was interested in getting a story about the six weeks between graduation and Jack's visit to Madison. Second, she shared this idea: "What are y'all talking about, it is 2016 it is TOTALLY NORMAL to date someone on the other side of the country that you met through Twitter. (Jack, here, I made you a fake Twitter account. Quick, pretend you're the twink in this random photo I found, you love to bake and you're a fan of my vlog, you know nothing about hockey, and you were born and raised in Southern California... _Why do you think?_ )  
> Though I feel there are twelve different fics I could write based on that glorious prompt alone, this one here is what happened when I took those two prompts together. *nodnod*
> 
> The wonderfully helpful Sellahdor beta'd this for me. 
> 
> The title is from this unattributed quote: _"Two things only a man cannot hide: that he is drunk and that he is in love."_  
>  Jack Zimmermann ain't drunk.

*

“Jack, I have to tell you something.”

Bitty’s face is tense on the screen (big brown eyes, jaw clenched, pressed lips) and he inhales hard. Jack’s breath catches for a moment. In the five days since...well, since _graduation_ , they have Skyped every night and exchanged texts non-stop. Their conversations have been almost entirely frenetic chatting about daily life in Providence and Madison. Jack is aware, at least on his part, that this is a cover. Cover for the overwhelming sense that something huge has started between them, something that he doesn’t have any idea how to talk about yet. 

This is the first time the tone of Bitty’s voice has sounded _serious_. 

“What is it, Bits?” Jack asks, and hopes his voice is steady.

Bitty’s lips tighten up for a moment before he starts speaking. “So at graduation, after you...left? Before my shuttle came, I was sitting in your room for a bit. Kinda...spaced out.”

“You were?” 

“Yeah.” Bitty looks away from the screen for a moment, exposing the smooth line of his throat.

“Huh.” Heat pools in Jack’s body. 

(Jack hasn’t figured out how to deal with how intensely his body reacts to Bitty; finally admitting his feelings has uncorked something raw in him. But he and Bitty haven’t even talked about being attracted to each other, much less acting on that attraction, so Jack’s been quietly trying to keep up with his own orgasms without bothering Bitty about it. For instance now, just the mental image of Bitty sitting alone in his room at the Haus, thinking about him, roils something low and deep in his gut.)

“...anyhow,” Bitty goes on, “Chowder came by, moving some of his things in, and he caught me by surprise and I couldn't pretend...I was delirious I think...I didn’t…”

Jack’s heart thumps. “You told Chowder?”

“I told him...my exact words were ‘I think I’ve started seeing somebody’.”

“Okay.” 

“But then he wanted to know more. Jack, I panicked.”

“Okay.”

“And I…made somebody up.” Bitty’s blush is visible, even through the terrible Skype connection.

Jack takes a moment to process this. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, I just started inventing this...guy. And I was flipping out so I actually made up...a lot of details.”

“Okay.”

Bitty sighs. “So now everyone in the Haus thinks I’ve started a long-distance relationship with someone from California named Colton who I met through Twitter…”

“Colton?”

“I know, Jack. I was panicking!”

Jack has to bite his lip to keep from laughing. “Okay. Colton.”

“He’s a film student and he’s into baking and he’s blonde and loves surfing and is about six feet tall and doesn’t know a thing about hockey.”

“Geez, Bittle.”

“I know. There’s more even. Thank the Lord that you’ve been too busy to be on group chat, because Chowder is spreading the news, and today the entire chat was just me being harassed about my new boyfriend.”

Bitty’s running a hand through his hair so that all his little hidden curls stand up and Jack is both amused and (at the mention of the word _boyfriend_ ) even more aroused. “Okay. So. Can I do anything to help? Do you need to break up with him?”

“Well, eventually,” Bitty says. “But for now I was thinking that maybe it could be helpful? Since we’re not telling anyone about...us.”

It’s as close as they’ve come to actually mentioning what’s going on between them. Jack knows there is a lot at stake in this relationship, and he has hardly given any thought yet as to who he might tell. But Bitty sounds firm, so Jack just nods. “Sure.”

“So, maybe ‘Colton’ will be a good...misdirection? Distraction? If nothing else, he gives me a reason to Skype and text all the time. Especially when I get back to Samwell.”

“So you want to lie to everyone?”

“Well, I’ll be lyin’ no matter what. Right?”

Jack hasn’t thought about that either. “So this would be easier for you?”

“Maybe? I mean...I don’t know, sweetheart.”

Jack’s heart pounds even harder, but Bitty doesn’t seem to realize what he's called him. Bitty’s left collar bone is visible just above the edge of his t-shirt and Jack wants to kiss all along its smooth arch, but he can’t, so he just swallows and nods until he gets his voice back. “All right, bud. What do you need from me?”

*

What Bitty needs, it seems, is for Jack to create a fake Twitter account for Colton, and then tweet from the account every once in awhile. 

“Nothing much, just enough to make him seem like an actual person.”

“I don’t tweet.”

“I know. But Colton does.”

Bitty’s got him there. 

“Will anyone even believe that you have a boyfriend you’ve never met in person?”

“Jack, it’s 2015. They already believe it. I’m afraid most of our friends will believe it more than they would believe I’m dating you.” 

After they get off the computer, Jack collapses onto his new bed, still stubbornly half-hard, and jerks off until he comes thinking about kissing Bitty in public, without anyone doubting them. 

*

Jack sends Colton’s first tweet the next morning. 

**Colton Manny** _@mynameiscolton_  
@omgcheckplease Hey Eric, I’m your boyfriend.

 **Eric Bittle** _@omgcheckplease_  
@mynameiscolton Hi, boyfriend.

Colton gets twenty-two followers almost immediately after this scintillating exchange. 

**Jack** _I guess that worked?_

 **Bittle** _yeah, it did. You should check group chat. They are being ridiculous._

 **Bittle** _I told Lardo and Holster that they should follow Colton on Twitter. That gonna be okay?_

 **Jack** _Yeah._

 **Jack** _Skype later?_

 **Bittle** _Definitely._

*

“Why blonde?” Jack asks as he scrolls through the possible photos Bitty has sent him to set up a profile for Colton, imagining Bitty, alone in his room in Madison, scrolling through pages and pages of trim, attractive surfers.

“I don’t have a single, solitary clue, Jack. Why California? Why film school? Why did I say any of these things?”

“Hmm. Okay.”

“Do you have a favorite?” 

The pictures Bitty has sent are all of thin, tan, blonde men, and Jack doesn’t like a single one of them. 

“No. But he’s your fake boyfriend, so I don’t think I should like him.”

For some reason this makes Bitty break up laughing, which Jack could happily listen to all day. When he catches his breath, he says, “Lord, Jack Zimmermann, why don’t I just go ahead and pick one of ‘em for you.” 

*

Colton tweets once a day for the first week of his existence, usually right around eight in the morning when Jack gets back from his run but before he has to leave for a.m. strength training. 

**Colton Manny** _@mynameiscolton_  
I’m making a pie based on a recipe I got from my boyfriend.

 **Colton Manny** _@mynameiscolton_  
Spending today at the beach.

 **Colton Manny** _@mynameiscolton_  
Plan to talk to my boyfriend, Eric, later.

 **Colton Manny** _@mynameiscolton_  
Heading to the movies tonight.

 **Colton Manny** _@mynameiscolton_  
My boyfriend makes great pies.

(“You could give him a smidge of personality, Jack.” “Sorry, this is what he’s like, Bits.”)

Every morning, Jack logs in, posts, logs out, and tries not to think about Colton for the rest of the day. It’s not until the fifth day of tweeting that he stops on the site long enough to notice that people have been responding to him.

 _@capn_madd_katt_  
@mynameiscolton Which recipe? The apple/peach was scrumptious. You are one lucky man.

 _@redoliphaunt_  
@mynameiscolton Don’t forget to sprinkle the crust with sugar. DON’T FORGET. Seriously.

 _@justchelle_  
@mynameiscolton How’s the beach weather? 

_@VictoriaPyrrhi_  
@mynameiscolton What film are you seeing? Art house or mega-plex? Inquiring minds want to know.

There’s at least twenty more. Jack remembers in a rush of panic why he’s never let himself get seriously into anything like Twitter or Instagram. He can’t catch his breath for a moment, looking at the massive stream of messages to deal with. Jack closes Twitter and spends the next ten minutes looking through his desktop folder of photos of Bitty, to remind himself why he’s doing this at all. Then he jerks off real quick (second time today) and then grabs his phone. 

**Jack** _You’re going to have to finally let me watch your vlog, you know._

 **Bittle** _Oh and why would I suddenly do that, Mr. Zimmermann?_

 **Jack** _Because Colton’s seen it._

 **Bittle** _Well, fudgenuts. That’s actually a reason._

*

The Falconers run a Monday, Tuesday, Thursday, Friday off-ice training schedule during the off-season. So far, Jack has managed ice time every other day as well; it’s a solid, productive routine. 

So Jack is thankful that Bitty forks over the link to his baking vlog on a Wednesday when he has nothing scheduled, because once Jack clicks on the first video (when Bitty was still in high school, oh god), he can’t stop watching until he’s seen all 107 episodes and it’s 3:30 in the morning. 

The thing is, it doesn’t take long to realize that half the vlog is about him. Even Bitty’s frog year, when Jack had treated him like shit, but especially last year...hell, Jack can scarcely justify calling baking his main subject after a while. Jack’s alternately overwhelmed, furious at himself, or madly in love as he watches Bitty struggle with his feelings, fully aware of his own parallel struggles and idiotic blindness. (He also has to bring himself off twice. God, he can’t keep up.) Jack doesn’t even know what to do after the last two posts, which are mostly rosy-cheeked Bitty, giddily describing everything that happened at graduation _except_ getting together with Jack. He doesn't have words to explain the odd euphoria he feels after watching.

Jack wants to tell Bitty _something_ , but he doesn’t know what, especially because so far they are just two really good friends who kissed once (or four times, depending on how you count; god, that last one) and it’s still so fragile and new that Jack is terrified of messing up.

He holds his phone in his hands forever, and types and erases ten messages to Bitty before he gives up and logs in to Twitter.

 **Colton Manny** _@mynameiscolton_  
My boyfriend is kind, funny, talented, smart, and sexy. 

He clicks tweet, tosses his phone onto the floor, and collapses into his bed to catch a few hours of sleep. 

*

Jack barely makes it to training the next day. He manages to put up a front for the teammates he's training with, even though he suspects they are all wondering when he’s going to actually _arrive_. He dodges out of the practice facility before anyone can talk to him and rolls home at midday to take a long nap, waking up for afternoon training feeling only slightly less foggy and exhausted.

He finally checks his phone. He has…a lot of texts.

 **Bittle** _well, that’s one way to do it_

 **Bittle** _you should get on group chat_

 **Bittle** _we all miss you and I need Holster to shut up about Colton_

 **Bittle** _did you leave your phone at home?_

And.

 **Holster** _Jack! Come chat! Bitty’s sexy now! I saw it on Twitter!_

And.

 **Shitty** _shit jack. does bits have a bang buddy finally? Why am I hearing about it from holster? fuck graduating._

And.

 **Lardo** _Zimmermann, call me_

Jack feels a hard ping of anxiety; it’s one thing to send a few tweets, but a whole other game to realize he’s lying to his friends. Then, because he’s an idiot, he logs in to Colton’s Twitter account. His early morning tweet about Bitty has fifty-five likes and a long string of replies (all, he assumes, from Bitty’s followers who now follow him; they are all strangers), variably congratulating Bitty or telling Colton how lucky he is to have such a wonderful boyfriend. 

There’s simply too much. Jack can feel the narrowing tunnel of panic starting to creep in along the edges of his vision. He closes out of text and Twitter and does the only thing that makes sense at the moment. He calls Lardo. 

She finally picks up after it rings forever. “Fuck you, Zimmermann. I miss you,” she says as she answers. 

“Hey, Lardo. This an okay time?”

“I’m painting in my garage, but I need a break. What’s the sitch?”

“You said to call?”

“Right. I did. ‘Cause shit, bro.” Her voice gets soft, with a hint of worry. “You okay?”

Jack sits down on his couch and sinks into Lardo’s easy honesty. “Why wouldn’t I be okay?”

“No reason.” There’s a pause, because he’s pretty sure they both know he has plenty of reasons, and that she’s probably even figured out reasons Jack isn’t even aware of yet. “So...how’s Providence?”

“Not sure yet. I’m still getting settled.”

“It’s only been two weeks.”

“I know.” 

There’s another silence, and Jack can hear Lardo choosing her next words carefully. “Have you talked to Bitty?”

“Yeah. We talk...regularly.”

“You know about this asshole he’s virtual dating?”

Jack lets out a little breathy laugh that relieves some of the tension that had built up in his chest. “What makes you think he’s an asshole?”

“Hm? Maybe he’s not.”

“Maybe.” 

“But still. Asshole until proven otherwise.”

Jack feels the last of his panic slide away. “Good policy,” he says.

*

After he gets off the phone with Lardo, Jack makes two turkey sandwiches and eats them both and then heads in for the p.m. session. He throws himself hard into the workout until he finally feels like himself again. 

After his shower, he texts Bitty. 

**Jack** _Sorry I was hard to reach today._

 **Bittle** _That’s okay! How was your day?_

 **Jack** _Fine. Ups and downs._

 **Bittle** _You okay? Anything I can help with?_

 **Jack** _I like the vlog._

 **Bittlle** _Oh lord. You didn’t spend too much time watching, did you? I think you can get the idea after one or two episodes._

 **Jack** _I watched them all._

 **Bittle** _You are a madman._

Jack desperately wants to say _No, I’m just in love with you_ , but instead he texts back, _I have to keep up with Colton._

 **Bittle** _Can we Skype? I want to see your face._

Jack blushes hard, for the benefit of the empty team lounge. It’s the closest Bitty’s come to saying aloud that he misses Jack, and it kindles a fire in his belly. 

**Jack** _I’d like that too. I’ll let you know when I’m home._

*

For the first time, once they get each other on screen, there’s an awkward silence. Jack finds himself just smiling and blinking into Bitty’s big brown eyes, and even though he just stared at Bitty in his vlog posts for endless hours the day before, the live version is somehow a hundred times better. 

“I’m terrible at tweeting,” Jack finally says, just to say something that isn’t _I love you._

“I think you’re doin’ great, honey. Colton’s a hit,” Bitty says. 

Jack wants to tell Bitty how much he’s struggled already to deal with the interactions on Twitter, how difficult it is for him to be somebody else, how much he doesn't think he can maintain the lie, but the right words won’t come. So instead he says, “Yeah, sure. So...I’ll keep it up.”

“This silliness isn’t distracting you from getting settled into training, is it?”

Bitty smiles hopefully and Jack’s done. He can’t let Bitty down.

“No, it’s fine.”

“Well, good. So, how’s the apartment coming together? Walk me through the kitchen again?”

*

An hour of Bitty later, and Jack needs to get to bed. Bitty is full of questions about the Falconers, and Jack realizes that talking about them, about his workout regime and who he’s met and likes, and how the trainers are treating him, makes his life in Providence come alive in a way that it doesn’t when he’s just quietly living it. He’s desperate to get back on routine, but it's almost impossible to say goodbye.

“I’ll talk to you tomorrow,” Jack says, and can’t hide a yawn. 

“You get some sleep, honey.”

“I will.” 

“Jack?” Bitty catches him just before a disconnects, his voice unusually quiet.

“Yeah, bud?”

Bitty hesitates a moment. “I really liked what Colton said.”

Jack feels heat prickle up, all over his skin. “Yeah, well. He likes you a lot.”

The new, loaded silence falls between them again. Jack’s fingers itch to touch Bitty’s skin and pull him close. But he's hundreds of miles away. 

Finally, Bitty says, “Good night, Jack.”

“Night, Bits.” Jack replies, and he closes the screen with a little too much force, just to be sure that he doesn’t have time to accidentally say anything else. 

*

Jack is restless all night (coming hard while staring at a photo he’d taken of Bitty’s hands doesn’t help him sleep the way he’d hoped), so he drags himself up early the next morning with a new resolve. If Bitty needs him to be Colton, he’s going to fucking _be_ Colton.

He spends the extra hours in his morning schedule doing research and setting up a file of information for himself on his desktop (Santa Monica weather, USC course catalog, online dictionary of surfing terms, map of popular surf breaks in Southern California, list of important films to watch before entering film school, the link to Bitty’s vlog). Then he logs in to Colton’s Twitter and uses his research to respond to a few of the replies that have been sitting there, untouched.

@capn_madd_katt Yes, the apple/peach. Tonight I’m rewatching episode 95 and making the blueberry tart.

@justchelle Santa Monica sunshine. 86 degrees and clear blue sky on the beach today.

@VictoriaPyrrhi Werner Herzog retrospective: _Aguirre: The Wrath of God_

When it’s time to write Colton’s daily tweet, he stares at the blinking cursor for a long minute, thinking about Bitty. Then he writes,

 **Colton Manny** _@mynameiscolton_  
I did not know it was possible to miss someone this much.

He sends and shuts his computer down before he can worry too much. He needs to get going; a big rack of free weights is waiting for him. 

*

Jack ends up running suicides in the gym with Alexei Mashkov during afternoon training. He’s still exhausted, but Mashkov is a monster and doesn’t give Jack a moment to even consider slowing down.

“Okay to smile sometime, Zimmboni,” Mashkov says, patting Jack on the back as they finish up and head to the showers. “We play game for job. Is fun!”

“Thanks Tater. I’m just still getting my feet under me here,” Jack says.

“I think you have feet. Soon you get head here, too.”

*

When Jack logs back in that evening, Colton’s tweet has received a huge number of likes and another long string of replies. He scrolls down through the array of sympathetic responses until he sees this one:

 _@omgcheckplease_  
@mynameiscolton I didn’t know I could miss someone this much either. 

Jack stares at Bitty’s response for a long time.

Once he can bring himself to scroll around again, he notices a number of replies from a new follower:

 _@thehonorablemrknight_  
@mynameiscolton Listen, _Colton_ , if you break his heart you’ll be hunted down by 20+ highly literate men with razors strapped to their feet.

 _@thehonorablemrknight_  
@mynameiscolton Yep, I’m that guy. 

_@thehonorablemrknight_  
@mynameiscolton You can call me Shitty. And not because it’s my name. 

Jack finds himself laughing out loud to himself in his own living room, and then suddenly missing Shitty so much that he almost breaks down. (God, he needs a full night of sleep.)

 **Jack** _Shitty is threatening Colton if he breaks your heart._

 **Bittle** _My hero!_

 **Jack** _He’s fairly convincing._

 **Bittle** _I’m sure Colton is shaking in his Vans_

 **Jack** _Everyone really believes in him._

 **Bittle** _Yeah, I guess they do_

Jack isn’t quite sure why he feels so melancholy. He tells Bitty he’s wiped out and then gets to bed early. Probably he just needs to catch up on sleep. 

*

Like he does with everything, over the next week Jack figures out how to make his life as Colton fall into a routine. He keeps up his research and posts a new tweet every few days, then reads but generally ignores the replies. His anxiety doesn’t spike again. He and Bitty talk every night, but it's rare that they bring Colton up. The bittersweet feeling persists, but it’s all fine. He’s obviously doing his job as a distraction.

 **Colton Manny** _@mynameiscolton_  
There’s an offshore wind and 6 ft swells at Zuma Beach. Heading out there.  
_@chrischowder_ Cool!! CA beaches are the best!!!  
_@capn_madd_katt_ sweet  
_@VictoriaPyrrhi_ jealous midwesterner here, that sounds like a great day.  
_@omgcheckplease_ Be careful, boyfriend.

 **Colton Manny** _@mynameiscolton_  
Tarkovsky night at my apartment. Having a few classmates over.  
_@lduanart_ Russian, right?  
_@omgcheckplease_ Is that a type of soup?

 **Colton Manny** _@mynameiscolton_  
My hair gets so light in the summer.  
_@omgcheckplease_ Pics, or it didn’t happen!  
_@holsterhockeyinc_ #blondeproblems I feel you, bro.

 **Colton Manny** _@mynameiscolton_  
The second draft of my short film script is with my professor.  
_@justchelle_ Good luck!  
_@omgcheckplease_ Do I get to read it?  
_@chrischowder_ Like a real movie? So cool!!

 **Colton Manny** _@mynameiscolton_  
My boyfriend plays hockey. I don’t even like hockey. How did this happen to me?  
_@holsterhockeyinc_ Luck.  
_@thehonorablemrknight_ Cause you're fucking damn ass lucky  
_@chrischowder_ Isn’t it great? Hockey players are the best!  
_@lduanart_ Good question  
_@omgcheckplease_ Don’t antagonize the hockey team, honey.

(After this exchange Jack gets a text from Shitty that says, _fuck, Jack, i think Bitty’s boyfriend might be an asshole_. Jack chuckles off and on for five minutes and feels better than he has in a week.)

*

Jack allows himself to sleep in until eight on Saturday morning. He has ice time reserved at two o’clock but nothing else on the agenda until then. He lies in bed, restless and unsettled, with the twitchy, anxious feeling that he’s not really doing what he should be doing. 

When Jack rolls over, he realizes that he and Bitty had fallen asleep the night before with Skype still open. His laptop is sitting next to him on the bed, and he has a perfect view of Bitty, sound asleep and snuggled into his covers. It’s so much like waking up next to him that Jack is frozen for a moment, just staring at Bitty’s relaxed, sleep-calm face, long eyelashes and red lips and...Jack wants this. He’s not sure what else he’s ever wanted this much. (His usual morning wood starts to take on a bit of urgency. He gives himself one solid stroke before feeling really weird about it.) He closes Skype, then he hops up, suddenly too overwhelmed to lie still any more, and jumps into the shower.

After he’s safely dressed and out of the bedroom, Jack opens Twitter. But he can’t shake the dreamy sense that he just woke up next to Bitty for the first time, which maybe accounts for what Colton tweets next. 

**Colton Manny** _@mynameiscolton_  
When you wake up wishing your boyfriend was lying next to you. 

Jack pulls on his running shoes, and heads out into the Providence morning.

*

When he returns home, for some reason Jack logs back into Twitter. (He doesn’t investigate his thought process on this too deeply.) The first thing that pops up on Colton's feed is Bitty.

 **Eric Bittle** _@omgcheckplease_  
@mynameiscolton When you wake up missing your boyfriend and he misses you too.

Oh god. Jack’s fingers sit frozen on the keyboard for several minutes, his heart pounding, before he begins to type again.

 **Colton Manny** _@mynameiscolton_  
@omgcheckplease When being with your boyfriend is your first thought every day.

 **Eric Bittle** _@omgcheckplease_  
@mynameiscolton Lord have mercy. When your boyfriend turns you on like you wouldn’t believe.

Jack is flooded with sense memories of kissing Bitty (the soft skin of his throat and the sweet way he pulled himself up against Jack and how hungry his kisses had been). 

**Colton Manny** _@mynameiscolton_  
@omgcheckplease When you are tired of just imagining.

 **Colton Manny** _@mynameiscolton_  
@omgcheckplease When you know, if he were with you, exactly where you would place each of your hands.

 **Colton Manny** _@mynameiscolton_  
@omgcheckplease. The way he would look first opening his eyes.

 **Colton Manny** _@mynameiscolton_  
@omgcheckplease The warmth of him on your fingertips.

 **Colton Manny** _@mynameiscolton_  
@omgcheckplease The indent of his head on your pillow.

 **Eric Bittle** _@omgcheckplease_  
@mynameiscolton Oh lord. When you want all of this and cannot breathe.

Jack is hot and embarrassed, but the bottle has been uncorked; his mind is flooded with images. Colton’s just about to add more when a new tweet pops up.

 **Larissa Duan** _@lduanart_  
@omgcheckplease @mynameiscolton Ahem. When boyfriends need to take it offline, like, now.

Shit. Shit shit. It’s like ice down his back. Jack deletes Colton’s half of the conversation and walks away from the laptop as if it’s radioactive.

He sits across the room, trying to catch his breath and calm his body, when his text alert starts buzzing. He ignores it for a few minutes, but it keeps going off. 

**Bittle** _You okay?_

 **Bittle** _I’m on Skype_

 **Bittle** _Jack? Come talk?_

Then after a while, another buzz. 

**Bittle** _Jack, I’m stress baking and need company._

Jack works on his breathing exercises, and the white haze of panic starts to subside. He lets himself imagine Bitty putting all of...whatever just happened...into a pie crust, and smiles a little. 

“Hey,” he says, when Bitty appears on screen (flushed and looking a bit shell-shocked). 

“Hey yourself, Mr. Zimmermann.” Bitty is in his kitchen at home. As he adjusts the screen for Jack, Jack can see a spread of ingredients, bowls, and measuring tools all over the counter. Bitty himself has a constellation of flour spattered onto his cheek. “You all right, honey?”

“Yeah, I am. I’m sorry.”

“What are you apologizing for?” 

There’s so much to choose from: failing to communicate properly, bottling up the intensity of his feelings, misunderstanding his own emotions for months. It’s easier to just say, “Colton.”

“Oh lord, that ridiculous boy.”

“Yeah, I know.” Jack knows he should say something else, talk more about what he’d just tweeted, that they need to open the doors to actual communication, but he’s also starting to realize that when those doors do open, there’s far too much that’s going to flood in. So he blunders forward. “What are you baking?”

“Berry pie. It’s all we had in the icebox.”

“Looks good.”

Bitty goes still and looks a bit flustered. “Jack, honey?”

Jack feels his cheeks redden. “Yeah?”

Bitty says the next bit all in a rush. “If my mama invited you down here to stay with us a few days, what would you think about that?”

Oh god. Jack thinks he might jump out of his skin at the idea. He keeps up his calming breathing. “I think that I would definitely say yes.”

“You would?”

“I’ll can take a few days off in a row. Bits,” Jack hears his voice get quiet and shaky. He doesn’t say, _I’d be there tomorrow if I could_ , even though it's true.

“Yeah? ‘Cause I know we haven’t talked about much of anything, Jack. But lord, I think we need to see each other in person.”

Jack nods and nods until his voice finally comes back and he says, “I’ll get a flight booked today.”

*

 **Colton Manny** _@mynameiscolton_  
I would like to be eating a slice of berry pie right now.

*

Later, Jack spends two hours on the ice with a couple of the other rookies who are already in town, shooting buckets and running some drills, all pretty casual. He thinks, based on how little they talk to him, that they might be intimidated, so he tries to hang back and play small, just get shit done. They are all at least four years younger than him.

Back home in the evening, Jack tucks himself into bed with a new book (he’s been plowing through a stack of books about Lewis and Clark; anxious, depressed Meriwether Lewis fascinates him). It’s been a long, strange day and he’s already spoken to Bitty once, so it feels like too much to call him again (even though his fingers itch to grab his phone).

Just before he’s ready to turn out the light, though, his text alert buzzes.

 **Bittle** _You up?_

 **Jack** _I’m here._

 **Bittle** _Hey_

 **Jack** _Hey._

Jack doesn’t know what to say, so he lets the conversation sit in silence until Bitty finally goes on.

 **Bittle** _I just wanted to tell you I really do, you know_

 **Jack** _You do what?_

 **Bittle** _Think about you_

 **Bittle** _Like I said_

 **Jack** _Oh._

 **Jack** _Me too. All the time, Bits._

 **Bittle** _Yeah?_

 **Jack** _Yeah._

 **Bittle** _I’m glad to know for sure._

 **Jack** _Me too._

 **Jack** _Plane gets into Atlanta at 3:35 p.m. on July 2._

 **Bittle** _I’ll pick you up. You get some sleep, sweetheart_

 **Jack** _I will._

Jack sleeps all night, and for the first time in weeks, he isn’t tired in the morning.

*

That weekend, Jack drives up to Cambridge to see Shitty's new place. 

“I mean, fuck, look at that one lonely toothbrush in the holder. I’m not even sure what the point of this bathroom is when I’m not sharing it with you, brah,” Shitty says as he tours Jack around the four small rooms of his apartment, his arm draped over Jack’s shoulder.

“The world hopes you figure out what to do in here soon, Shits.”

“Don’t mock me, man. I fucking miss you.”

Jack loops an arm around Shitty’s waist and says, “I know. I miss you too.” It’s somehow so much easier to say when it’s Shitty.

They eat dinner at an Indian place down the block from the apartment. It is just as easy to sit and talk with Shitty as it ever has been. Jack has been vaguely aware that he is lonely in Providence, but hanging out with Shitty and feeling like he can just relax and be himself really drives home the fact that he’s still not settled or comfortable in his new life. Jack sinks into the pleasant comfort of Shitty’s rambling commentary on the world.

“Have you told Ransom about working out with Mashkov yet? Because he’ll be hella stoked. Like, possible cardiac arrest followed by ascension to a higher plane of existence.”

“I haven’t talked to Rans recently.”

“No shit, Sherlock. You’ve been MIA from group chat and we all miss you like hell.”

Jack nods. “Yeah, I know. I need to get back in there.”

“Do that, dumbass. Don’t make me drag you.”

*

After dinner, Shitty passes Jack a beer, fires up a bowl, and then insists that they Skype Bitty together. Jack’s heart is pounding and he attempts a weak protest, because honestly he has no idea how he’s supposed to act around Bitty when someone else is watching. But Shitty doesn’t listen (“It’s just Bits, Jack”); he just pops open his laptop and calls.

Shitty breathes out a smooth column of smoke as Bitty answers. “Eric Bittle! You devastatingly gorgeous human being!”

“Hey, Shitty. Oh lord, you’re gonna be swearin’. Let me close my door.” Bitty dashes off screen for a moment.

“Bits, come back. Look who the cat fucking dragged in!” Shitty pulls Jack over into the view of the screen and hugs his head.

“Oh my goodness, Jack!” Bitty seems to be handling Jack’s guest appearance with ease.

“Surprise, motherfucker!”

“What are you two troublemakers up to?”

Luckily for Jack, Shitty and Bitty both love to talk, so he sits back to listen to their familiar banter, quietly panicking. For his part, Bitty is mostly ignoring Jack, just giving him occasional encouraging looks and smiles, and Jack thinks for a minute they might get through this unscathed. Eventually though, Shitty’s tone changes. He takes one last hit on his pipe, then nudges Jack in the shoulder. “Okay, enough chit chat, Bits. We have questions.”

Jack gives Shitty a look. “We do?”

“Yes, Jack. We do. You are aware that our young Southern gentleman is currently in a long-distance relationship?”

Jack’s heart stops and he has to bite his lip for a moment before he can manage to say, “Yes, I am aware of that.” He catches Bitty’s eye, and Bitty smiles at him for a moment. 

“Jack knows all about Colton, Shitty,” Bits adds.

Shitty looks back and forth between. “Whoa, friends. He does? When did you two talk?”

Jack can’t figure out how to lie. And honestly, he doesn’t want to. “Yesterday.”

Shitty looks at Bitty, who just smiles and nods to confirm. 

Shitty puts on his best devastated expression. “Yesterday? Well, fuck the two of you. Just cut ol’ Shitty out of the fucking loop why don’t you?”

“Shitty, you are not cut out of the loop,” Jack says. “I’m staying at your apartment right now.”

“You are both dead to me. Whatever. If Jack has all the dirt on the beau already, that means I’m in charge of all the questions now. So. Number one.” Shitty clears his throat. “Mr. Bittle, exactly how much Skype sex are you currently having?”

Jack looks at Bitty. Shit.

Bitty’s eyes go wide and a blush creeps up rapidly all the way to his hairline. He doesn’t even glance in Jack’s direction. “Shitty, good gracious no. We haven’t done anything like that yet.”

“Ah-ha! _Yet!_ ” Shitty slings an arm over Jack’s shoulder and nods emphatically, and Jack only just manages not to startle up. “Did you hear that _yet_ , Jack?”

Jack’s body is flooded and his breath is uneven and he can’t look away from Bitty’s big eyes on the screen. When his voice comes out it’s much more husky and serious than he means it to be. “Yeah. I heard it.”

Bitty looks at him then, wild panic in his eyes, and Jack thinks he might combust. 

Shitty goes on. “So, it’s all sexting then?”

“Shitty Knight, get your mind out of the gutter.” Bitty’s face is bright red and Jack can hear a little tremor in his voice that he’s trying to mask. “Jack, can you do something about this menace?”

Jack manages to shake his head. “Bits, when have I ever been able to get Shitty to do anything?”

Bitty laughs, and some of the tension dissolves. 

Shitty is stroking his chin. “So what you are saying, Mr. Bittle, is that this Colton fellow won’t put out over wifi or cellular network.”

Bitty crosses his arms and gets that stubborn, determined look that Jack has seen so many times on the ice or in the kitchen (or just before Jack was about to walk away without one more long press of lips, and god, they have to figure this out because this is too much to feel without saying any of it out loud). “No. What I’m saying, _Mr. Knight_ , is that maybe you could make a little room for an actual romance in your sex-crazed universe.”

Shitty looks shocked for a moment and then his voice softens and he gives Bitty a crooked grin. “Romance? Aww, well shit, that’s hella sweet. I just thought you and this bro were cross-country fuck buddies. I didn’t know it was serious.” He turns to Jack. “Did you know our boy was falling in love?” 

Jack takes a shallow, shaky breath and then his eyes lock with Bits, and it’s too much. He manages to say, “I thought...maybe he might be.” 

Bitty doesn’t look away and Jack doesn’t either; he feels the earth shift under him just a bit.

Shitty sighs dramatically. “Okay, okay. Yes, fine. Love and romance. But this is bullshit,” Shitty says. “I’ve been cheated out of vicarious and hysterical on-line sex stories. I expect more from you, Bits.”

Jack can’t take it anymore. Without warning, he grabs Shitty around the waist and hauls him backwards onto the floor in a tackle and gets him pinned before Shitty can even react. (“Gah! Jack! Brah, I’m just kidding. I love love! I LOVE LOVE!”) On the screen Bitty starts to laugh, and then shake his head. 

“What am I gonna do with you boys?”

*

Romance is all well and good, Jack thinks thirty minutes later, as he’s finishing a frantic, silent wank in Shitty’s bathroom while running the tap and pretending to brush his teeth. But sex is something too. He hopes Shitty can’t hear him mutter _Eric_ and _fuck_ as he comes over his hand, remembering the deep blush of Bitty’s cheeks. 

He uses too many tissues wiping up Shitty’s bathroom floor. 

*

Back in Providence, and the world goes back to this new normal. Colton continues his regular postings (Shitty is suddenly much nicer to him in replies). Jack talks to Bitty every night. They don’t bring up anything more about their relationship or their feelings, but a new confidence is there between them; Jack feels it like a physical presence in their conversations. Jack starts marking his calendar like a kid before his birthday, counting down the days until he leaves for Georgia. 

On Wednesday, returning home after some ice time, he plops down on the couch and, without much thought, logs in to the SMH group chat for the first time since graduation. 

_Jack has joined the chat._  
**Holster:** Yo, Jackie!!!

 **Ranson:** Jack!

 **Lardo:** Zimmermann. Where’ve you been?

 **Chowder:** Jack!!!!!!!!!!

 **Jack:** Hey.

 **Ransom:** Holy shit. How’s Providence?

 **Jack:** Good.

 **Holster:** Anyone you know been whacked yet?

 **Ransom:** What the hell does that mean?

 **Holster:** Providence. It’s a mob town, right? Dudes named Carlo the Snake and chicks named Cookie? 

**Ransom:** Shit, son. Jack lives in actual Providence, not damn Goodfellas.

 **Jack:** Everyone I’ve met is still alive and no one has been named Cookie.

 **Ransom:** See?

 **Holster:** You let me know when that changes.

 **Lardo:** Besides mafia activity, how is everything?

 **Jack:** Good. 

**Ransom:** You already practicing with the team?

 **Jack:** Yeah, anyone who's in town. I’m on a four day off-ice workout schedule, and skating at least three times a week.

 **Holster:** Shit, no rest for you.

 **Ransom:** Dude. Have you met Mashkov yet?

 **Jack:** Yeah, sure. He spotted for me when I was lifting yesterday.

 **Chowder:** Sweeeeett!!!!!

 **Jack:** He’s a nice guy. Likes to talk.

 **Jack:** He told me some wild stories about the Olympics.

 **Chowder:** OMG, Ransom!!!

 **Jack:** Rans?

 **Lardo:** Did he die?

 **Holster:** Nah, he just needs his smelling salts.

 **Holster:** Or is he jacking off?

 **Chowder:** Eww!!! 

**Lardo:** Interesting.

 **Ransom** Settle down everyone. I’m just having a moment. 

**Holster:** So that’s yes, you are jacking off???

 **Chowder:** Guys, seriously, we should tell Jack about the plan. 

**Jack:** What plan?

 **Lardo:** Smooth change of subject, Chow.

 **Chowder:** Okay, so do you know about Bitty’s boyfriend in CA?

Jack had settled into the familiar patter of chirps and quips, but suddenly he’s sitting bolt upright on his couch and his heart is pounding.

 **Jack:** Yeah. Colton.

 **Chowder:** Yes!! We want to surprise Bitty, because it sucks so bad that he's all happy but they live so far apart.

 **Chowder:** So...we’re thinking about pooling our money to buy Bitty a plane ticket out to visit him over 4th of July weekend!!!

 **Chowder:** We figure he can pretend to be visiting me so his parents don’t have to know anything, and maybe I’ll even get to see him for part of it anyway!! We have it all planned!

 **Ransom:** We are the best friends ever. 

**Holster:** Want in? 

Jack stares at his phone for what feels like an eternity, guilt like a bubble expanding in his chest.

 **Jack:** Guys, you can’t.

 **Lardo:** What’s up?

 **Holster:** Why not?

It’s not a secret. They just haven’t really told anyone.

 **Jack:** I’m going to Georgia to visit Bitty over Fourth of July weekend.

 **Ransom:** You are? 

**Chowder:** YOU ARE!!!??

 **Holster:** Well, shit.

 **Jack:** Yeah. 

**Ransom:** That’s sweet! But, yeah, now our plan sucks.

 **Jack:** Sorry.

 **Lardo:** Nah, that’s ‘swawesome, Zimmermann. Colton will just have to wait.

 **Jack:** Yeah, he will.

*

When he leaves chat a few minutes later, Jack tosses his phone down next to him, stares into space for a minute, then rubs his eyes and starts laughing. He can’t stop for five solid minutes. Then he dials Bitty, and when he picks up, Jack says, “You won’t believe this, Bits.”

Bitty gets a little teary when Jack tells him. “They’d do that?”

“They were doing that. For you, bud. They love you.”

“They do?”

“Mm-hm.” Jack wonders, if they knew, if their friends would be pooling their money for a plane ticket to Providence instead. 

“Bits?”

“Yeah?”

“I don’t want to lie to them forever.”

“You don’t?” Jack is surprised at how honestly shocked Bitty sounds.

“Can we talk about it when I’m down there? About what to do?”

Bitty’s quiet for a moment, but Jack can hear him breathing. “I think that sounds perfect.”

*

The week before Jack leaves for Madison is endless. He sticks to his routine, adding some extra ice time to keep himself busy. Providence is miserably hot and humid, so Jack takes any excuse to stay within the air conditioned loop of work to home and back. He has no energy to do research in this impatient, wilted state (he's tired of surf reports and old films), so Jack has Colton just tweet favorite pie flavors all week.

 **Bittle** _You are aware I’ll be baking all of these for you._

 **Bittle** _Colton’s taste is surprisingly similar to yours, Jack. Just a little coincidence I’ve noted._

 **Jack** _Very mysterious._

 **Bittle** _Do you think I should I tell Colton you’re coming down for the weekend?_

 **Jack** _Risky. He might get jealous._

 **Bittle** _Well._

 **Bittle** _He should be._

*

The thing is, they’re not holding back much anymore. Jack isn’t exactly sure at what point they’d started flirting again, or at what point he realized he has no more doubts that Bitty’s feelings are just as strong as his own. But he’s sure of it now. Sitting in T.F. Green ready to board, Jack logs in to Twitter.

 **Colton Manny** _@mynameiscolton_  
@omgcheckplease I’m in love with you.

*

In Atlanta, Bitty meets him at the exit to the terminal. Jack can see the bright blonde of his hair in the crowd as he shuffles out in the parade of weary travelers. He thinks (too late) that they probably should have talked about how they wanted to publicly greet each other. 

It’s easy, though, actually. Bitty sees him and his face lights up in a way that Jack thinks he could handle seeing every day, forever, and then he runs over and crashes into Jack with a full-body hug that almost knocks the wind out of him. Jack drops his bag and wraps Bitty up, wishing he could block out the other passengers streaming by and do nothing but feel the warmth of Bitty’s whole body pressed against him, like he’s imagined over and over for weeks now. 

Bitty pops back away from Jack after far too short a time and says, “I need us to haul ass back to the truck, honey. Like, now.”

“Hi Bits,” Jack says. 

“No time for that. C’mon.”

Bitty darts through the crowds ahead of Jack like he’s getting through traffic on the ice. Jack hefts his bag and trots to keep pace, confused by this nervous, frantic Bitty, and still burning from the brief touch of skin against his own. 

It’s hot in Atlanta too, a more thorough but less soupy kind of heat than in Providence. Bitty leads him out to the parking garage, still at a rapid pace, and Jack feels sweat break out on the back of his neck and under his arms. 

“Almost,” Bitty says as he hops out of the elevator and takes off across the concrete floor of the garage. It seems that Bitty has parked his car in the furthest, emptiest corner possible. And he’s still not talking. 

Lights flash on a big, blue F-350, which is honestly the last thing Jack can imagine Bitty driving. 

“Is this yours?”

“No time to chat, honey. Luggage in the back. Get in.” Bitty is already climbing in on the driver’s side. _Maybe traffic?_ Jack thinks.

Jack tucks his bag into the truck bed and steps up to settle into the passenger seat. He’s only just slammed the door and started to say, “Are we late for something…?” when Bitty is in his lap, straddled across him, arms around his neck, hot breath inches from Jack’s lips, and...oh. Oh. Bitty is kissing and kissing and kissing him.

Jack is frozen for a moment in the realization that this is actually happening now, that they don’t need to talk first. Or apparently even say hello. Jack’s body is electrified, and he manages to get his arms to wake up and wrap Bitty close, pulling him in against his chest and deepening their kisses until it is almost impossible to breathe. 

“Was this the rush?” Jack says, when they come up for air for a moment and Bitty starts sprinkling his face with little kisses. 

“Lord, yes.”

Jack grins. Oh.” He gets his hand into Bitty’s hair and pulls him back in for another long, deep kiss, hoping his body is communicating all of his many weeks of waiting, of loneliness, of how much he wants this right now. Bitty’s hands sneak under Jack's t-shirt and against his skin, and Jack shudders into the touch. It’s been a long time. One of Bitty’s hands starts tracing the ridge of Jack’s spine, while the other starts a gentle tug at the top of Jack’s shorts. 

“Jack, honey?” Bitty rests his forehead against Jack’s for a moment. “I saw Colton’s tweet.” 

Jack can hardly catch his breath. “Yeah?”

“Did he mean that?”

Jack kisses Bitty again, close-mouthed and soft. “Bits. He’d be a fool not to be in love with you.”

“But...you’re Colton.”

Jack breathes in deep and can’t look away from Bitty’s big brown eyes. “Yeah. Yes. I am.”

Bitty leans in and kisses Jack again, opening his lips and melting against him, and it's slow and glorious and sweet and dirty. 

Jack yanks Bitty’s tank top up into his armpits so that he can get his mouth on more skin, on the smooth, cut muscles of his chest, the soft skin of his throat.

“Oh my god, Jack.”

“You okay?” Breath into Bitty’s skin.

“I am beyond okay.”

The kissing gets more intense and purposeful, and Jack’s hands make their way to the zip of Bitty’s shorts. Jack is well aware he could come right now just from thinking too hard. 

“Are we really doing this right now, Bits?”

“Honey, we’ve been doing this for weeks, haven’t we? Just in different cities?”

Oh god. Jack grapples a hand along the top of Bitty’s shorts, loosens the button, gets a solid handful of Bitty’s hip. Bitty’s hand tugs a little at the trail of hair on Jack’s lower abdomen, and his whole body surges up. 

They fist each other at almost the same moment, hungry and impatient. Jack knows he’s going to last about ten seconds after feeling the eager strokes of Bitty’s hand on him. Oh god. (Jack has the brief, coherent though that none of his long-distance imaginings had even come close to the reality of Bitty's hands and mouth and skin.) They kiss and pull and heat swirls around and through them. Jack feels Bitty shiver against him, feels the press of his skin, damp and hot, and he's so turned on he comes a little bit unmoored from the earth. Then Bits stiffens, his breath stutters and breaks, and warm come drips onto Jack's hand. Bitty pulls back far enough to look Jack right in the eyes, and that is all it takes; Jack is coming so hard his body twitches and shudders for a full minute, and he collapses back against the seat and can’t think or breathe or even open his eyes.

Bitty’s lips and tongue trace along Jack’s jawline, soft and slow, bringing him slowly back. Jack lets his eyes drift open to stare down at the astonishing man in his arms.

Bitty cranes around and pulls out a hand towel from the glove box behind him and tidies Jack up, smattering him with kisses as he does.

“You were prepared.”

“Jack Zimmermann, there was no version of right now where this was not going to happen.”

Jack chuckles and helps Bitty to button up and pull down and generally get presentable again. Then they kiss for several more long, languorous minutes, Bitty still piled on top of Jack in the passenger seat.

“Bits?”

“Yeah?”

“Sorry, but I’m so hot, I think I’m going to sweat through the seat.”

“Oh lord, honey, me too. Let’s get the air conditioning on and get out of here.”

Bitty struggles his way over the center console and into the driver’s seat to get the big truck roaring to life. Jack can’t completely let go of him, keeps one hand extended out and resting in Bitty’s hair. 

He looks over at Bits, pulling on his seat belt and putting the truck into reverse.

“Hey, Bittle?”

Bitty looks over at him, eyes bright. “Yeah?”

“Hi.”

“Hi, Jack. Welcome to Georgia.”

*

The next night, Bitty and his mom pack them a picnic dinner (Suzanne Bittle is so welcoming and accommodating, Jack gets a little overwhelmed, honestly) and they take the truck out to a field where Bitty swears they’ll be able to see their neighbors shooting off their own personal stash of fireworks for hours.

“We’ll go to the big Madison show tomorrow. But the Andersons are absolute pyromaniacs. It’s like war breaks out in their cow pasture every July 3rd.”

They lay out the food on a blanket (pear-ginger pie today) and eat for a while, getting distracted by feeding each other, and after a few more minutes they are laughing and stripping off each other’s shirts and wrapped up together in the warm summer night. 

Jack feels Bitty’s fingers gently exploring his hair. “So, you don’t wish I was blonde?” 

“Blonde? What is this now?”

“I don’t surf, either. But I could learn.” 

Bitty pulls back and props himself up on his elbows. “Jack Laurent Zimmermann, you aren’t jealous of my fictional boyfriend, are you?”

“No.”

“Jack.”

“Sometimes I wonder. Why you made him like that.”

Bitty leans over and crawls onto Jack, gently brushing his hair away from his eyes. “You are a ridiculous fool, Jack Zimmermann. I daydream about this damn hair. I live for hockey. I get turned on just walkin’ past someone on the street with a French accent. I don’t have any other fantasies, sweetheart. There’s just you.”

Bitty kisses him again, and Jack wraps his arms around him as tight as they can go.

Bitty suddenly laughs against Jack’s shoulder.

“What?”

“I’m just thinking I’ll have some better stories for Shitty next time he wants to know about my sex life.”

Jack pulls Bitty back down, mouths at his throat, and gets his hands all over Bitty’s ass. He’d stupidly thought maybe finally being with Bitty would calm down his raging sex drive. 

“Yes, you will.”

*

Mid-August. Jack drives Bitty up to Samwell the day before he needs to be back for the first skate of the pre-season. Everyone in the Haus knows Bitty’s been visiting Jack, so it’s not awkward to arrive together, even though...it kind of is. They unload luggage together and lug Bitty’s boxes up the stairs (Shitty has come down for the night, just because, and he, Chowder, and Lardo help; Holster and Ransom are out for a run when they arrive). It all feels very normal and familiar, except for the fact that Jack is itching with nerves. He keeps remembering that he woke Bitty up that morning by kissing him over every inch of his skin, and Bitty keeps giving him these secret smiles that are driving him crazy. Also, Jack doesn’t live here anymore. 

It’s stiflingly hot; there are fans on full blast in every room of the Haus. 

Rans and Holster get back, and they all settle into the kitchen to unpack Bitty’s recently acquired additions to the Haus bakeware collection. Shitty mixes up a batch of something he calls ‘tub-free summer sweat juice’ (Lardo: “That’s appalling”), in alcoholic and non-alcoholic versions. Jack leans up against the counter, sipping his drink, and trying not to stare at Bitty’s shorts.

Ransom is unwrapping a set of measuring cups when he says, “Yo Bits, we haven’t heard much about Colton recently.”

“Oh, I didn’t tell you?” Bitty glances at Jack for a split second, but it’s enough. “We broke up.”

There’s a general hubbub of reaction to this announcement. Holster looks up from where he’s emptying a box and says, “Shit, dude. That sucks,” at the same time that Chowder moans, “Oh no!!!”

Bitty waves a dismissive hand. “Naw, it’s all for the best. I’m already over it.”

“What happened?” Lardo asks.

“Yeah, spill, my bro,” Shitty says.

Bitty sips his drink, glances at Jack again, and pulls himself up to sit on the counter, legs crossed at the knee (oh god), in storyteller mode. Jack can’t look away. “You know, I don’t think we ever had much in common. I mean, have you ever _seen_ Russian art films? It just sort of...fizzled.”

“Bro, I never did understand how it got so serious between you when you only knew each other on-line,” Rans says. 

Bitty shrugs and looks right at Jack, who’s starting to think Bitty’s trying to kill him. “Well. Turns out there _is_ an awful lot of fun you can have over Skype.” There’s a general hoot of glee, and Jack feels his face get hot.

Shitty frowns. “Bits, did you get virtual dick and not tell me? I thought I made it clear I expected to be informed.”

“I’m a good old-fashioned Georgia boy, Shitty Knight. I never Skype and tell.” Bitty’s blush is crimson. 

“Did you ever even get to meet Colton in person, Bits?” Chowder asks.

“I know y’all think I'm crazy, but I actually never did.” 

Jack can’t take it anymore. He clears his throat. “I did. I met him.”

It’s worth making himself the spotlight to see the Bitty’s eyes go wide, a look of utter surprise and amusement on his face. 

There’s another general hubbub. (“ _You_ did?” “You met Colton, Jack?” “How the hell did that happen?”)

“I was out in LA for this promotional thing in late July. Bittle gave me his number and we met up for dinner.” 

Bitty’s eyebrows can't rise any higher.

Lardo looks shocked. “Deets, Jack. What was he like?”

Jack lets himself think for a moment. “Not good enough for Bits.” He can see that Bitty’s biting on his lip to stop himself from laughing. “First of all, his profile picture is definitely not him.”

The room erupts. Ransom steps back, hands in the air. “Aww, shit. Bitty, you sure you want to hear this?”

Eyes locked with Jack’s. “You know, I really do.”

Jack continues. “He wasn’t even that blonde. And he’d change the subject every time I mentioned hockey. Kept calling it... _sportsball_.”

Holster and Ransom look shocked. Shitty is shaking his head. “Is this idiot child still alive? And if so, why?”

“I couldn’t bring myself to tell him there isn’t even a ball involved.”

“I always knew he was an asshole,” Lardo says with a huff. 

“Rans and I hate him on your behalf, Bits.” 

“I’m completely fine, y’all.”

Chowder pulls out his phone. “I’m totally unfollowing Colton right now!” 

Everyone in the room, except for Jack and Bitty, go for their phones. In the momentary chaos, Jack pulls himself up and starts across the kitchen towards Bitty. Bits watches him the whole way, a little smile slowly brightening his face, and they don’t say anything, but when Jack’s almost there, he starts nodding his head, and mouths one word. _Yes_. It’s not exactly how they’d planned it, but it’s pretty good.

“Hey, y’all, seriously,” Bitty says, right at Jack. Five faces look up from their phones. “Don’t you worry about me. I’m seeing someone new who I like a whole mess more.”

Jack has never kissed anyone in front of anyone else before, but Bitty’s smiling so big it’s easy to block out the crowd for a moment, cradle his face in his hands, and kiss him, soft and easy and in the bright light of day.

The kitchen goes totally quiet, and Jack can’t quite bring himself to turn around. 

Lardo breaks the silence. “Thank god! ‘s’about damn time, you two. Fuck Colton.” And then everyone starts shouting at once.

Bitty laughs against Jack’s lips. Jack kisses him and then burrows his head against Bitty’s shoulder, and Bitty pulls him close, still laughing. 

*


	2. Coda: Five Years Later

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After five years, some secrets need to be shared.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I did not know there would be more, but Colton Manny will not leave me in peace. Please note: I write John Johnson as a normal(ish) person, unaware of his status as a character in a story.

*

“Okay, I’ve got another one.” Ransom holds his cocktail in the air. “A toast to Bitty's ‘swawesome pecan pie the first day we met him.”

There’s a gentle murmur of agreement and then eight drinks are hoisted high. Shitty says, “Fucking cheers to that,” and Holster murmurs, “Oh yes, I made sweet, sweet love to that pie,” before he takes his sip. 

Jack sips his ginger ale and settles back against Bitty’s arm, which is stretched out behind him, and Bitty leans in and presses closer against Jack’s side. They are all packed together into a booth that should probably only seat five. But Johnson and Chowder have pulled up chairs and Lardo is pretty much sitting on Shitty’s lap, so they are making it work. It’s the only really private booth, but it’s Bitty’s favorite bar in Providence, and the staff have been paid generously to keep any gawkers away. 

“I wonder how many pies I’ve made for y’all since then,” Bitty muses. 

“That’s seven years of pastry, Bittle.” Jack nudges Bitty, who elbows him back and kisses him on the cheek.

Jack reaches up and grabs hold of the hand that Bitty has casually slung over his shoulder. He gently fusses with Bitty’s new ring and then glances for a moment at their intertwined fingers, marveling in continued wonder at the matching ring on his own finger.

Ransom sighs. “I don’t regret a single, calorie-filled bite.”

“Oh wait, I have a toast!” Chowder shouts. Jack and Bitty have been back from their honeymoon for two days, but neither of them had wanted the celebration to end, so Bits had just up and called the Boston-area Haus members together for this impromptu night out. 

Chowder holds up his beer. “To everyone Jack or Bitty ever dated. Thank goodness they broke up with them, or Jack and Bits wouldn’t be here now!”

A chorus of laughs and “Cheers!” and clinking glasses follows this pronouncement. Jack gets a little nervous knot in his gut, but Bitty’s hand in his keeps him anchored.

“Aww, fuck,” Shitty says. “Does this mean I just toasted Camilla, Samantha, and that cat girl with the same swig? Don’t some of these poor assholes deserve their own toast?”

“Truth.” Ransom pounds the table once with his fist.

“Okay,” Holster says, “I got this. So, here’s to Camilla Collins, a woman with the patience of a saint and a blind spot the size of Arkansas!”

The table breaks up and Jack shakes his head, but he lifts his glass and takes a hearty gulp for Camilla.

After a moment’s pause, Lardo looks at Jack and says, “And Parse, right?” Every eye at the table is on Jack for a moment. But that pain is long gone, so it’s easy to raise his glass and sip his drink without comment, and then everyone else does too.

Holster swallows, then asks, “Bits, what about you?” 

“I suppose my entire last year on the figure skating circuit deserves some recognition in this arena,” Bitty says, his eyebrows high, and Jack laughs, but also drinks to that. Those boys taught Bitty plenty.

“There was that dude we set you up with for Winter Screw, Bits!” Rans adds.

Holster slams his drink down. “And wasn’t there some bio student named Amir?” 

Bitty frowns. “No?”

Chowder’s face lights up. “And Colton!”

“Oh my god, Colton Manny.” Lardo’s eye roll is amazing.

Shitty looks like he almost does a spit take, but manages to swallow. “Oh shit. Remember that asshole?” 

Jack stiffens, and he feels Bitty’s grip on his hand get tighter. Jack glances over and Bitty is looking up at him with a devious little smile, his eyes sparkling. 

“Should we finally tell ‘em, honey?” he says under his breath.

Jack hopes for a minute that no one heard Bitty. But then Lardo asks, “Tell us what, Bits?”

Jack gives Bitty a little shrug. “Go for it, bud.”

Bitty pulls his hand away from Jack and sits up. He folds his arms on the table in front of him like he’s about to make a serious declaration. The table falls silent in expectation. 

“Y’all...I never dated anyone named Colton.”

“What do you mean?” Chowder’s expression (confused, and a little stricken) is mirrored by almost everyone at the table.

“I...made him up?” Bitty says in a rush, and then hides his face against Jack’s shoulder.

The table erupts (“You did?” “What the hell?” “But I used to talk to him on Twitter!”) and Jack bites his lip to keep from laughing. 

“What the fuck, Bits? Why would you do that?” Shitty asks, as the hubbub quiets down. 

“Okay, listen, y’all. There’s a little bit of history you need to be caught up on.” Bitty clears his throat, and gives Jack a sidelong glance. “When me and Jack first got together, I was a bit...fretful...about anyone else finding out, including all y’all. So, I...made up a fake boyfriend instead.”

“Colton was fake?” Chowder looks like he might faint.

“Yeah, he sure was, bless his heart.”

“Hold the fuck up,” Shitty says, leaning on his elbow and pointing an accusing finger at Bitty and Jack. “Are you saying you two were making googly eyes and doing the horizontal mambo for longer than we know about?”

Jack almost chokes on his drink. Bitty nods. “About three months longer. All summer after Jack’s graduation, actually.”

There’s a general muttering and Shitty lets out a loud whistle. 

“I never made googly eyes,” Jack feels the need to add.

Seven faces gaze at him in mocking disbelief. Ransom reaches around Holster to pat Jack on the shoulder. “Yeah, okay, you keep on believing that, son,” he says gently. Jack hears Bitty let out a little snorting laugh next to him. 

“Enough! Back to Colton!” Shitty commands.

Bitty resumes his story. “Anyhoo, I asked someone to pretend to be this guy, and tweet as him, so that we had cover for our relationship.”

“Someone who?” Lardo asks.

Jack knows his cue when he hears it. He clears his throat. “It was me. I was Colton.” 

It’s quiet for a moment, and then there’s a general hoot of incredulous glee. 

“What?” Chowder shouts.

Holster is shaking his head and covering his mouth with a hand. “Fuck, Jack. I watched all of Werner Herzog’s films that summer!”

“Sorry.”

“You even told us you met him, you devious fucking asshole.” Shitty is wagging his finger at Jack, his eyes narrowed to slits. Jack wishes that they were not all trapped in the booth. His fingers itch to hassle Shitty and have a good old-fashioned throw down.

Instead, Jack shrugs and settles for saying, “I did meet him. I knew him very well.” He can feel Bitty vibrating against his side in silent laughter. 

John Johnson has been kicked back in his chair, quietly sipping away at his daiquiri, swirling the umbrella and listening, but he’s sitting forward now, pulling out his phone and looking intently at it like he’s trying hard to make sense of something. 

“Hold up, bros. You talking about Colton Manny?”

Jack tenses up again, because honestly, there’s no way the other shoe isn’t going to drop. Leave it to Johnson.

Holster is still shaking his head and sipping at his drink. “Yeah, dude. Did you follow him back in the day, too? This was all after you graduated.” 

“Fuck yeah, of course I followed him. I always pay attention to what my little dude Eric is up to. But the thing is…” Here Johnson pauses and looks confused. “...I still follow Colton now.” Johnson holds up his phone. “He posted five hours ago.”

Jack feels heat start to creep up his neck and settle in his cheeks. 

“Well that makes no sense!” Bitty says, grabbing at Johnson’s phone. “It must be some other Colton Manny?”

“Nah, man. It’s the guy you used to date. I never stopped following him.” 

Bitty looks closely at Johnson’s phone, and Jack slowly eases deeper into the booth until he’s settled as far back as he can into the corner. His pulse is high and he either wants to run, or break into hysterical laughter. 

“It’s the same username. This is bizarre,” Bitty says, still holding Johnson’s phone.

“What did he post about, Bits?” Lardo asks.

“It’s about...whether LeBoy or Thomlinson will go first in the draft?”

“The NHL draft?”

Bitty nods. 

“Yeah, Colton Manny’s a bad-ass hockey Twitter. The dude knows everything.” Johnson reclaims his phone. 

One by one, everyone at the table turns their gaze to Jack. 

“Honey?” Bitty says, sliding to one side and looking at Jack like he’s never seen him before. 

Jack lets himself have a moment to breathe before he licks his lips and forces himself to talk. “Colton got dumped, eh? So, he um...realized he’d been wrong and...got into hockey. You know. To...heal.” Bitty is looking at him hard, but Jack meets his gaze and doesn’t look away.

Johnson is still scrolling through his phone. “So many times I have literally thought 'fuck, this dude knows more about hockey than Jack Zimmermann'.”

Jack lets himself grin a little. “Nope.”

“You’ve been posting hockey commentary on Colton’s Twitter for five years?” Bitty says, still staring. 

“Yes.” Jack isn’t sure what to make of Bitty’s intense stare. His chest hurts.

“He has over 7,000 followers,” Johnson adds, and Shitty whistles again.

“I can’t decide if this is fucked up, or fucking hysterical,” Holster says, taking another swig of his cocktail.

Lardo replies immediately. “It’s hysterical.”

Shitty nods emphatically. “It's fucking _hysterical_.”

Bitty is still staring at Jack and Jack’s heart is pounding hard, but then Bitty’s expression breaks into an amazed and affectionate grin. “It’s the funniest damn thing I have ever heard. Jack Zimmermann, you utter and complete dork!” Bits launches himself into Jack, hugging him around the chest and pressing his face into Jack’s neck, and everyone at the table starts to laugh and chatter at once.

“Do we still get to collect fines now that they're married?” Holster asks the table.

“Colton’s getting several new followers right now, you know,” Ransom says, pulling out his phone. 

“Colton may be retiring tomorrow now that he’s been found out,” Jack says, wrapping his arms around Bitty.

“Don’t you dare,” Lardo says, also tapping at her phone.

“I can’t believe you, Mr. Zimmermann,” Bitty says quietly, into Jack’s ear. 

Jack feels the intimate rumble of Bitty’s voice resonating in his gut. God, he’s in love. “Colton never got over you, Bits. You changed his entire life.”

“I will fucking drink to that,” Shitty says, and everyone at the table quiets down and lifts a glass.

“To Colton Manny!”

When Bitty kisses Jack, even after all of the years between, it still feels like the very first time.


End file.
